The Ice Queen
by Kiki-or-Coco
Summary: Amelie the question of who she really is: What drove a young princess to a life of rule? What hurt her so much that she pushes away any form of affection? Who really is she? Her story in detail. The Ice Queen revealed.
1. Chapter 1

If I had to say what I am I think the answer would be cold. So very cold. I have been cold for as long as I can remember. It was a very long amount of days ago that I felt heat run under my flesh, felt a pulse in my neck, felt something even close to warm. My life has always been cold, when your beyond life itself it always is . Even as a mere mortal I was cold, I rose from being a princess to a queen without ever being given a title. Mother never had much of a rule, maddened by my father she'd shut herself away in one of the wings screaming at the top of her lungs, I kept her hidden because she would have been locked away, beaten and probably killed in some weird exile of hunt for a form of supernatural untrusted. She was weak and pitiful but in every way possible perfect enough to survive my father, a cold and blood hungry man before even becoming immortal. Many a night he would create some flawed plan just in order to get his sword bloody in any way, no matter what the consequence, being a vampire just flawed him some more, instead of using some weapon and giving the unjustly victim a chance of escape or a moment to remember the ones they loved, he'd smile and pounce- drinking only from live victims the screams would resonate in my dreams making me nearly as fretfully mad as my dearly pathetic mother, as sleep began evading me at its every chance.

My beginning of immortality was as pathetically cruel and painful as you'd expect, my father being power hungry, fed lies to a faraway prince of my beauty and of the power that would come if we were to come together in marriage. The cry of a crown had been too much for the poor and pathetic royal, his agreement had been almost instant, with him waving his farewells in order to seek the jewel that was a country, he'd been plagued with the right to rule- only sadly for him his blood called to my father, the battering of his pulse against his neck- through nerves - had pushed my father to far, rendering him uncontrollable as he launched himself at my 'fiancé', in front of a battalion of guard- we never did get the blood from the stone- he killed each and every one, drained them dry- except one. He'd only managed to sink his fangs into the dear prince's neck before he'd been overcome by the surprised attack of the guards and had been pushed off course. My arranged marriage lay in ruins, as the poor boy shook in fear- tear tracks ebbing their way down his cheeks as a shaking hand tried to stem the heavy blood flow; his eyes unfocused on the rivers of red that stained the bottom of my cream gown. I was motionless watching my father, as he dropped the last guard to the floor with a dull thud, the bodies were white; each and every one drained dry- it was then he turned to me.

I didn't see him move until it was too late. He pinned me to his side and bit my neck, his teeth meeting over my pulse; he drained me and then gave me 'life'. The pain was inexcusably agony, the resonating venom made me fight pathetically to feel anything but agony- a pain I couldn't decipher only could feel- for what felt like hours I screamed but it was merely minutes what came next was worse. It wasn't more pain but was more of a desire. A burning passion for blood. And you can guess what happened next. Beyond thirsty and uncontrolled I turned to my 'prince' and bit. Drinking him dry- I will never forget his face frozen in fear, a weak yelp escaping his lips. It was then I turned to my father, a smile toying at his lips- as a predatory glow shone from his eyes, as he took in each and every part of me, his eyes lingering at my breasts. It was then he came at me, pinning me to his side- his strength beyond my weak own.

He ripped my virginity from me, raping my viciously.

It was only then I knew what I had become.

My father wanted a bride.

And I was that bride.

Sadly that was only the beginning of the horror.


	2. Chapter 2

He thought of it as a game, a game of two halves except for me, both halves meant pain. A tugging on my conscience that this just wasn't right, a niggle that for the life of me I couldn't rid myself of. My transformation was kept silent, a smooth transfer, that made no one question the ruling of my Father's throne. I wasn't always as cruel and corrupted, I cared but I had no choice- if I didn't drink from the 'prey' father would be as cruel as unimaginable; for him I was a gift, I should have been grateful for him sparing me. My mother didn't take to well to my transformation, in surviving my Fathers' it was I who pushed her too far to the edge. She 'fell' from a window, so high that for a moment she must have felt as if she could fly. Bishop laughed. Whole-heartedly bellowed when his 'wife' was found blooded and tangled in her own limbs, as a place mourned for their queen, me and my father slipped away.

Disappeared into the night.

We were news only too good to not be passed from ear to ear. He was a cruel man, but knew the secrets that helped save us both from burning in flames. We were presented as a team even though his mere face sent my stomach into a tight ball and made me want to sob myself to oblivion. It was decades after my transformation, when I was finally strong and in control- I took my Fathers' torture only because I knew that one day he'd regret at my hand. That's my biggest regret that it was Myrnin who finally killed the fool, who gave me birth and I. I had his death planned but it all fell out of place, Oliver and Myrnin alike told me to kill the tyrant before he could cause more evil but I wanted him to suffer, the same way he had made myself suffer for days and days and days. He wasn't the man who I wanted to ease into death, I wanted him to go kicking and screaming all the way to some dark pit where he could pick away at his own body draining himself finally dry. I wanted to look him in the eyes as he was an inch, a moment, a second from death, and tell him just what he was- I wanted it to be my eyes he saw last; as I took his life, draining him of his last drop of blood- I was going to be cautious and meticulous to make sure he was gone this time- I didn't even have a chance.

I met Myrnin early on after my transformation, he had a wild streak that glowed to me in a feeling of safety. Though we never spoke much beyond formalities in our initial meeting whenever Father would go to the 'mad-man' as he called it I would follow, hoping to be able to converse with the fledging the 'mad-man' had created. Myrnin maker of such wasn't made just worldly, more intelligent than many in these early years, he rambled about ideas- enlightening his fledging with joys of the sciences and always alchemy- I envied him so much, the freedom and love that his creator gave freely- the only love my father knew was pain. We became friends very early, he was my confidence and with him I wasn't so fearful- he much alike myself hated my father.

It took a multiple of years before we finally 'killed' my daddy; ripping his beloved book from his deathly grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

There was nothing rash or importune about my Father's assassination. As a fledging I was beginning to find my feet in the darkened world I now called home. Father was too preoccupied with power, and his sense of righteousness bloated his head to the point where anyone as unfortunate to disrupt him became a meal, whether that be 'petty' humans or those of my kind wishing to gain alliance. He was fast becoming a gloriously blood hungry leader, someone who wanted to be king even if being king meant he had to leave a blood trail.

Despite my open hatred of my conversion I was glorious, I beauty; a treasure of such which my father used in his favour. No longer was I just his pawn, I was his knight- people would defend me, thinking of me as being innocent and needy, allowing my father freedom that would have certainly gained him a beheading in the mortal world.

He no longer paid attention to me and my whereabouts, unless it was in some way relevant him and his…'needs'. I became to know Myrnin as a close friend, no longer just a mere acquaintance. Him and his blood father were good people, always having their noses in a book, whilst debating ideas of science I couldn't fathom but they welcomed me like a member of a family. I think that may be what drove me to create Morganville, to build the foundations of a larger society- a place that we could all call home. I think that's why I've never called time on my 'experiment', even when the 'rats' started to fight and rebel among themselves I had faith that it could all be salvageable, because with a little love and unity anything is possible.

Myrnin hated my father, hated his rise to power; the unjust way he treat those he believed were below him. It wasn't just Myrnin either, if it wasn't for the power my father oozed from his every pore he would have been mauled by my kind, ripped to shreds but in fact each vampire was as scared and unsure as the next. It was left to me, to rid the world of him.

I wasn't planning on being the murderess but it ticked like a bomb, his torturous ways made for an unjust system that faired well only if you were capable of giving my father some form of undeserved power. He formed a close knit circle, each member as manipulative and fiercely blood hungry as the next- they also felt that I could take care of their 'needs'. He would laugh when they come away worse for wear, as my strength rivalled the strongest of our kind.

I only came to kill him when he wanted to cull, he wanted to take out town after town. After the first set of towns he took, my fury built beyond a manageable flame, I was burning- chard with fury from the inside with it slowly making its way out. I watched screaming men slip into oblivion as they were drained dry, like drunks during happy hour. I'd watched my father attack innocent women; I'd heard their scream mixed with the wails of youth. Their eyes open wide, trying to curl into corners to make themselves invisible. I knew at that moment that I would never forget the look of utter fear in their eyes as they watched those they knew fall, as they pathetically tried to protect their young from those who were marginally more able.

It was then that I knew he had to die. It was then I went to Myrnin to concoct a plan my obliviously power hungry father would never be able to comprehend.


	4. Chapter 4

What I should probably illustrate at this point is that my father wasn't averse to stealing in order to gain, within the vampire community- if there was such in that time- stealing was a no, a complete an utter no. to steal was to disrespect but somehow my good-for-nothing father found nothing better, than to take what others claimed- whether that be human or vampire. Although vampire was his speciality, he believed you gained more taking from 'the living dead'.

That's how he came about a book. A book I think you all know causes mass destruction and is more powerful than I ever gave it credit for. The book of survival. Vampires are not discreet but for survival we are careful, more careful than we are given credit for. That's why a man like my father could never be allowed to survive.

Myrnin's plan was flawless. My Fathers' rule for end games was to be ready for any possible outcome, we were ready. Or least we thought we were.

It worked and he fell and I rived the book from his thick and heavy hand, feeling a shift in my power in the first touch. We buried him and returned, never really letting it slip that we'd disposed of the cruel leader.

It was that night that I disappeared once more, but this time I disappeared alone. For some reason it took me many years to final figure the feeling I had held since my father's death, and as vile and blood-thirsty as he was I figured out finally that the feeling was loss, I'd been in the immortal version of mourning for many decades.

Myrnin finally caught up with me, and through plentiful letters written in his fine and messy print I figured him to be well but saddened by my abrupt disappearance. My sudden absence had broken him slightly. And although I was saddened by the news that my friend, and too be honest at that point my only friend, felt I'd left unjustly- I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision. To stay would have been to live a lie; Myrnin was my best friend to place in modern terms, if such a thing existed after the conversion, I cared awfully deeply about what would happen to him and how I could protect him and I think in a way that was why I had to leave him as abruptly, because I knew that if I had of announced my parting; he would of painstakingly accompanied me, whether that be my wish or not. He was a good friend and a part of me, never really realised what it was like to be truly alone. I thought I knew what it was but until I walked away, and never turned back I knew what it was like to walk into the darkness with no-one to watch your back.

It had been long years since myself and Myrnin had conversed when I after countless riots and fleeing, I wrote an apology of such, I was maddened by being so isolated. So as hopeless as it sounded I bought the land on which the basis of Morganville was built, praying to myself that this wasn't the beginning of our designed destruction. I wanted a place we could be safe.

I knew the sun wasn't safe. But I knew that where the clouds lay heavy, the sea level rose were not safer. The sun may burn but for that we had the protection of dark, I chose the lesser of two evils.

And that is what became of me. I called all the vampires I was aware to live in a town in which we wouldn't have to hide; the open minded citizens stayed- we opened the blood banks. Founders square was built. But it wasn't until recent years that the town became one.

You could call it evolution.

I'm a closed book. My secrets lay hidden, masked by my iced nature. Because I'm not one to ever be hurt again.


End file.
